The Sword and The Scabbard: 07 Ace
by natsora
Summary: Trev is different, beyond having the Anchor or being the Inquisitor. She knows it in the deepest parts of her soul. But when one seemingly innocent question pose to Varric brings old questions and insecurities to the fore, Trev struggles to reconcile what society tells her is normal and how she feels.


Ace

Tags: Asexual Inquisitor, Coming out, Aromantic Inquisitor, Angst, Pre-Relationship

Characters: Varric, Dorian Pavus, Cassandra Pentaghast,

Summary:

Trev is different, beyond having the Anchor or being the Inquisitor. She knows it in the deepest parts of her soul. But when one seemingly innocent question pose to Varric brings old questions and insecurities to the fore, Trev struggles to reconcile what society tells her is normal and how she feels.

* * *

Trev stared at the page, her already dried out quill still trapped between her fingers as she tapped it against her lip. It was a good idea, it was still a good idea. Cassandra liked smutty romances so a story written just for her as a thank you present was fitting.

She reached up and rubbed at the flat edge of her left ear where it was amputated due to frostbite. Without Cassandra, she would have died in the snow outside of Haven. In the days and weeks since she accepted the role of Inquisitor, she would have buckled under the sheer volume of work if it wasn't for Cassandra's help. Not that the rest of her advisors didn't help, but Cassandra didn't just make sure she had the resources to get things done, she made sure Trev didn't drown under the work, dragging her out to train or simply to share a meal. For Trev, it had been the sole bright spot of her day.

But Trev was stuck, or rather the story was. The guardswoman was supposed to fall in love with the accused murderer but… "How the fuck is that supposed to feel like?" She sighed and kneaded her temples. "And how am I supposed to write a smutty scene later?"

She rose and tidied the ink stained parchment away. Having Cassandra discover her horrible attempts at fiction would be less than ideal. She needed to make sure she actually finished the story before she could even think about showing it to anyone else. Groaning, she stretched and limbered herself. The sun was just peeking through the mountains and the chill air prickled against her tired eyes. She stripped out of her bed clothes into something studier for the morning training with Cassandra. All she needed was a clear head, that must be it.

The next time Trev sat down to write again was well past dinner. Her vision was blurring by then, it was hard to read what she had previously wrote by candle light. She managed only a couple more sentences before scratching them out in frustration. "Why is writing so damn hard?" she sighed before giving up to seek the comforts of her bed.

Trouble her cat purred his approval as he pressed close to her side. It didn't take long for she to fall asleep.

* * *

Trev struggled with the story and was close to despair when she decided to seek professional help. Varric was a writer, a published one at that. He must be able to help her. He had to because she was at her wits' end. With the precious pieces of parchment in hand, she headed off to the grand hall.

"Hey Quiz!" Varric called as she approached before grimacing. "No, no, that doesn't work."

Trev chuckled. "You're still trying to find a nickname for me? Nicknames don't stick for me. Why not just give it up?"

His eyes widened with shock. "Perish the thought, Inquisitor. I'll never give up."

It was her turn to wince. The new title grated on her ears, but it sat better than the "Herald" ever did. Being Inquisitor was at least a choice she made. She glanced at the table and saw a small pile of papers. They were filled with Varric's neat and tidy script.

"Saw something interesting?" Varric asked, shuffling the papers into a neat stack.

Trev sighed, pulling the rolled up parchment out from her pocket. "Actually…"

His eyes brightened. "May I?" He waited for a small nod from her before taking it gently from her reluctant fingers. It took mere minutes to read what took a week of agonising effort. "It's pretty good, but it's not finished," he pointed out.

"I know," she groaned, burying her face into her hands.

Varric chuckled and guided her to join him at the table. "There, there, what's the problem? The story you have here is pretty good. Filled with the intrigue of a good murder mystery and a thrilling chase sequence." His finger tapped at the empty portion of the parchment. Her last line hanging on the page forlornly. "So is this where the accused realised she is in love?"

Trev nodded mutedly.

"I don't see a problem," he said, dragging the last word out.

_Just say it, it's not embarrassing or anything. Just say it._ "What does it feel like?" Trev asked.

Varric blinked. "What does what feel like?"

"Falling in love."

That's when he spluttered. "I mean isn't it just the regular fluttering hearts, racing pulse and the like?"

Trev hunched tighter. The things Varric mentioned weren't familiar in the slightest. She had never felt that way, ever. His eyes narrowed, noticing her silence.

"You've never fallen in love before?" he asked incredulously.

"If it's anything like what you've just described, no," she admitted. Her words nearly lost over the crackling of the nearby fireplace. It was pure luck that the grand hall wasn't hosting yet another party. Even in its relative emptiness, she didn't want to speak these words aloud. They were something to be kept hidden, nestled against her chest and never admitted in public, but she forced them out. "No, Varric, I've not been in love before."

"How old are you?" Varric asked.

"Does it matter? Is this something that just happens if I'm older?" she straightened, hope filling her voice.

He grimaced and lifted one finger. "Give me a moment. I think this goes beyond a writing problem. I need some help." Standing up, his chair groaned as it got scrapped across the floor. "On second thought, maybe it's better you come with me."

Trev followed after hastily stuffing the parchment back into her pocket. It was looking worse for wear. She'd probably have to rewrite everything anew if she ever got this story written.

Varric led her up the steps towards the library. Dorian looked up as they approached. "Fancy seeing you here Varric, and our newly minted Inquisitor too. What's the occasion?" His eyes darted between the two of them before stopping on Trev.

She shrugged.

"Blade here has got an interesting problem," he sighed. "No, that's not working. I'll work on it some more."

"Please do," Trev begged. "And what are we doing here?"

Varric gathered a couple of extra chairs and herded them into the little nook. It was late enough that nobody was around. Trev settled into one of the chair, confused and bewildered. Varric and Dorian took their own seats.

"What's this about?" Dorian asked, his eyes bright with curiosity.

"So Trevelyan here," Varric pointed at her, "says she has never been in love before."

Dorian gasped, a hand pressed to his chest. "No. Please say it's not true. It's the most wonderful feeling in all of Thedas. You'll blush when your love is near. You want to talk to him, but you feel flustered You spend all day thinking about him and nothing else mattered. You just want to spend all day and night being together…" His voice trailed off when he realised Trev was looking away, her eyes averted. "You don't feel that?"

Her jaw tightened and shook her head. An ache had taken up residence in her chest, squeezing it tight. To hear Dorian and Varric effortless rattle off a list of things that they felt when they were in love drove home how different she was. This was a bad idea. All she wanted to know was how to write a scene where the pair fall in love and then they'd bed each other, but that was probably going to be a whole other set of problems too.

"Trevelyan," Dorian reached out and touched her shoulder. She flinched. "I'm sorry."

"Why?" her eyes flashed up to meet his.

"Why what?" he asked, confused.

"Why are you sorry?"

The beginnings of anger licked up in her chest to hide the shame she felt. She had never been in love, she had never bedded someone else. Maybe that was why she was having so much trouble with it. She was too young, that must be why. It was something that happened when people got older. Even as the thought came to her, she knew it was not true.

Back at House Trevelyan, even though she was the youngest Trevelyan, there were other children her age around, children of their servants and guards. They paired up easily enough and went hiding in bushes to do _things_. She knew what the others were up to but she never felt the urge to do the same. Training with the sword and shield held more interest to her. Maybe being the Lord's daughter must have kept her beyond the reach of the other children. That must be it, right?

"No, I mean…" Dorian's voice trailed off.

"Are you sorry because I've never loved? All of 25 summers and I've never loved, or kissed? Is that why you're sorry?"

"Trevelyan," Varric tried to interject, but she didn't want to hear it anymore.

These were things she knew about herself, but she didn't think they mattered, not until now. This was a mistake. The emotions roiling in her gut forced her into action. She stood abruptly and strode towards the nearest door.

"Wait, what about your story?" Varric called after her. "Don't you need help?"

Trev stopped, her chest heaving, her fingers tightened around the door knob. "I do, just… I can't do this now. I'm sorry."

Dorian rose to his feet. "Trevelyan—"

Trev didn't wait to hear whatever Dorian was going to say. A week of trying to be the Inquisitor by day and a writer by night, burning both ends of the candle, had left her exhausted. She was supposed to head out on an expedition tomorrow with… she stared at Dorian and Varric — them. It was too late to change her party, it would be odd and remarked upon and they did nothing wrong. They merely pointed out the ways she was peculiar. She was what was wrong. Wrenching the door opened, she strode through. Then, she froze. It was a dead end. Her cheeks burnt as she looked over the edge, briefly considering jumping off. It wasn't all that high, right?

The door opened before she could move. It was Dorian. "Trevelyan, I was just trying to warn you, this door goes nowhere."

"Yeah," she brushed passed Dorian on the way back in.

"Look, Trevalyan, I didn't mean to upset you," he said, grabbing her arm.

Trev sighed. "I'm…" she looked up to meet his eyes. "I'm not upset with you, just…" she swallowed, "confused. I should go get some rest, we have a long journey ahead tomorrow."

He let go of her arm and she fled.

* * *

Trev thought the journey to Emprise Du Lion would take her mind off things. It did not, not when the parchment, now looking even worse than before, weighed heavily in her saddle bag. She tried working on it by the camp fire while Cassandra was distracted with the scouts, but Varric was constantly asking about it. It irked her. Other than putting in what Varric and Dorian had described, an act that made her chest ached with her lack, she had made no progress. Even then, the words felt contrived. It was, after all, not her experience. She had none. Baleful eyes glared at Varric daring him to come talk to her again about the story. He took the hint and kept his distance.

"Trevelyan," Dorian called out.

She turned away from the fire, blinking as her eyes adjusted.

"Can we talk?"

"Sure," Trev gritted out, stuffing her hands into her armpits to guard against the cold after putting the parchment away. It was impossible to work on it. Everyone was hellbent on distracting her. Being in Emprise Du Lion didn't help matters. The bite in the air reminded her of Haven too much. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I merely wanted to clear the air," Dorian said as he shifted to press against her, probably trying to steal her body heat. "Fasta vass," he hissed. "You couldn't bring me to a warmer place? It's bloody cold here."

Trev sighed. "We're here to close rifts. I don't choose where they appear. If you didn't want to come, you should have said so before we departed Skyhold."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Trevelyan, you know I was just complaining. You don't actually have to take everything so literally."

She shrugged, not intending to make it easy for him. "What did you want to say? Are you going to tell me that I'm strange? I know that already," she muttered, sinking deeper into her cloak. "Look at this stupid hand." The Anchor flared a bright green, reacting to her annoyance. She winced.

"No, you're not odd," he interjected quickly.

"Have you loved?" Trev asked.

"You know I have."

"Before or after 25 summers?"

"Before."

"Have you kissed?"

Dorian didn't answer, knowing where she was leading the question.

"Was it before or after 25 summers? Have you slept with someone else? Have you held another person's hand? Have you look at someone and wanted them?" The more questions spewed out of her mouth, the lower and softer her voice got. She didn't know what was she trying to prove. Every question only serve to intensify the ache in her chest.

Dorian sighed in the end. "Trevelyan, I know you're upset and that's what I'm sorry for. I didn't mean to make you angry. We'll talk when you're ready to." With that, he retreated back into the tent he shared with Varric.

Trev watched his disappearing back, fuming at the emotions the conversation brought up. She was beginning to regret the entire idea of writing the story. She was never ever going to do a good job. And this just proved it. An incomplete human with incomplete experiences was never going to fully grasp what it meant to love. She hadn't wanted to get into an argument, but everything about the subject was a shard of glass in her hand, cutting herself and anyone else who got too close.

It's all her fault, she and her stupid idea. A simple gift would have solved all her problem. Maybe a hunting knife or a new whetting stone. It was time to give up on the story. Emotions were too difficult to deal with right now. She stood and stalked off into the tent she shared with Cassandra. Hopefully, a good night's rest would set her right again.

Trev pushed the flap aside and entered. Cassandra was sitting on her bedroll, already ready for bed. Her eyes were closed, she was mediating. Trev undressed quickly and crawled into her bedroll. They had set it up so that they were side by side. It was far better to share body heat than freeze by themselves. After Haven, it didn't seem so strange to sleep close together anymore. Lots of things changed after Haven.

She closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Thoughts chased each other around in her head, destroying her ability to find sleep. She was acutely aware of the seconds drifting by.

"Is everything all right?"

Trev peeled her eyes opened. "Yes, what made you ask?"

Cassandra jerked her chin at Trev's hand. It was sparking, green light lit up the interior of the tent, setting the shadows dancing. "Does it hurt?"

Trev grimaced, sitting up. It had hurt but no more than the usual that was why she hadn't noticed. Cassandra reached out and placed her hand over her clenched fist. "Breathe," she whispered. "In, and out. In, and out."

It didn't take very long before the light faded and Trev was left with a tingly sensation running up her arm.

"Better?"

Trev nodded. Cassandra knew what to do. She always did. Trev couldn't help but feel lucky with how things turned out. If it was anyone else in that dungeon questioning her after the Temple of Sacred Ashes was destroyed, she might have been killed on the spot. The countless of times Cassandra had her back, supported her or just simply being there for her. And Trev couldn't even write one simple story as a thank you.

"Thank you."

Cassandra patted her shoulder and joined her under the covers. "You should try mediating. It might help."

Trev chuckled, the first hint of humour in a few days. "I will just fall asleep."

A characteristic snort hissed from Cassandra's nose. It wasn't disgust or annoyance, it was merely acknowledgement. It was impressive how much Cassandra could communicate with a single sound. She grinned while Cassandra rolled her eyes. "Sleep. We have a long way to go tomorrow."

With Cassandra's back pressed against hers, Trev fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

The expedition was a success. Trev closed the rifts, traversed through an entire town filled with giant spikes of Red Lyrium, fought their way through waves upon waves of Red Templars only to be confronted by Suledin Keep. Even from a distance, her breath misting in the air, the Keep was imposing.

"We can't possibly assault the keep with just us four, Shield," Varric said.

Trev narrowed her eyes at him.

"Fine, fine, the nickname is not working. I'll think of another one."

Dorian was looking out into the distance and shivered, stuffing her hands into his coat. "I don't want to do it without at least a battalion of our dear Commander's men behind me."

Trev glanced at Cassandra, waiting for her assessment. It wasn't that she didn't trust her own instincts, or that of Varric's and Dorian's, she just valued Cassandra's a whole lot more. Her experience as a Seeker and the Right Hand of the Divine counted for a lot.

"It's better we return to Skyhold and regroup. I'll send word to the camp and have Harding keep an eye on the Keep for us."

Trev inhaled, the air sharp and stinging. Heading back to Skyhold sounded good, this place was bringing back bad memories, of snow, of a dragon's roar. She nodded. "Let's make our way back to camp. We'll return to Skyhold tomorrow. I'll send a report via raven back to Leliana. She can get the preparations started. I don't want to leave Suledin Keep under control of Red Templars."

Dorian strode on ahead by himself, mounting up. Trev watched, allowing him to stretch the distance between them. They hadn't spoken since their argument. Cassandra passed them. Varric heaved a sigh of relief, slinging his crossbow acrss his back.

"I'm glad you decided to return to Skyhold. I certainly wasn't looking forward to attacking the Keep," Varric said, nudging his mount to walk along side hers.

Trev nodded. "It will be foolish."

Her eyes strayed to Dorian again. The argument had left a lingering bitter taste in her mouth, but she hadn't been able to reconcile the mess of emotions, let alone sort through how she felt. A human that would never be able to experience everything life had to offer wasn't quite all the way alive.

"You know Sparkler didn't mean anything by it, right?"

She sighed. "I know. It's just…" Words failed her today. It got all stuck in her throat and refused to budge no matter what she did. She coughed roughly. "It's just hard."

"I know. There is nothing wrong with you," Varric said. "Maybe it truly is just time you need, maybe you've not met the right person?"

"After 25 summers?" she asked. "I don't think I can."

The anger she had with Dorian was gone. All that was left was a hollowness in her chest. She couldn't even explain why she was acting this way. It never used to bother her before, it wasn't even something she ever put much thought to till the story. Wasn't love something fundamental to everyone? To be unable to feel it, experience it, didn't that make her broken? Was she the only one in Thedas like this?

And truthfully that wasn't all, she had read about how men and women looked at each other with that strange glint in their eyes before bedding occured. She might have had it directed at her before, but she wouldn't know, unable to recognise it until someone else pointed it out to her. It felt foreign and strange then, it still felt the same now. There was too much crashing waves of inadequacy churning in her chest. It was all just giving her a headache.

Trev took a shuddering breath. "I don't want to talk about it anymore." She nudged her mount to pick up speed.

* * *

Upon reaching the camp, Trev headed off to write the note to Leliana. Writing the report wasn't hard, what's difficult was trying to keep the contents vague enough it was indecipherable to others but clear enough Leliana could act on it. And then to have it all translated based on the book of codes she was forced to memorise. By the time she was done, it was late.

Snagging a plate of food, Trev took it to the edges of the camp to eat in peace. She was in no mood for chit chat. It was more likely she'd snap at people for no good reason. Murmurs of conversation hummed over the crackling of the fire. Varric's voice dipped and rose as he launched into another story of Hawke. Dorian chuckled low as he spoke to someone else. Just the normal sounds from a camp, people winding down and relaxing after a long day of work. Behind that, she recognise the methodical scrap of a whet stone over a blade. The scent of oil drifting over the chill air. Cassandra. She was cleaning her blade and armour. It was part of her routine after her evening meal. The steady rhythm calmed Trev, and she could almost silence the thoughts in her head.

She couldn't say how long she sat there, holding an empty bowl just listening and looking out at nothing. It was only when a hand rest on her shoulder she jumped.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Cassandra said, she was all shadow, backlit by the dying embers of the fire. "Are you all right? You were sitting by yourself for a long time."

She couched, tugging one glove from her hand and pressed it against Trev's forehead. "Are you running a fever? Were you hurt from battle?" Concern shone in her eyes as much as confusion did.

Trev grimaced. It wasn't her intention to worry the Seeker, but then again it wasn't her intention to argue with Dorian and Varric either. Her intentions counted for very little recently. Her grip tightened on the bowl, rattling the spoon.

Cassandra inhaled, it was a short huff before sitting across from her. "What's bothering you? Is it being Inquisitor? Is it the Anchor or your nightmares?" She pried Trev's fingers loose to take the bowl from her.

Without something in her hands, she was reduced to clenching her fists. Words swarm her mouth, she wanted to let them loose but what if she ended up fighting with Cassandra too? What if Cassandra thought she was a monster, unable to love? What was she going to do then? She suddenly wished Trouble was near, at least the cat would have just accepted her as she was, broken or not.

A hand gripped Trev's shoulder and she jerked backwards, her eyes darting up to find Cassandra's eyes boring into hers. "Please let me help."

Trev found herself falling into those twin pools of pure earnestness and sincerity. Taking a deep breath, she said, "I think I'm broken."

The Seeker blinked, confused. "Are you hurt?"

Trev shook her head. "I… I've not loved before. I've not wanted to bed someone else like the others do. I've not held someone else's hand, I've not kissed, I've not even wanted to do those things. I… I'm just broken."

"But…" Cassandra straightened and shuffled closer. She dropped her hand from Trev's shoulder. It left Trev feeling chilled to the bone. Cassandra's hands drifted downwards, hesitating a little before taking both of Trev's in her own. "There, you've held hands now."

Trev laughed. It was a broken sort of sound, verging on tears. She appreciated what Cassandra was trying to do, but it wasn't quite what she meant. Regardless, Cassandra's hands were warm and it drove the weight in her chest away.

"Trev," Cassandra rubbed her thumbs over her knuckles. "There are many kinds of love. Like the one we have. You love me, don't you?"

Trev's eyes widened as a blush ran up her face.

"No, I mean as friends, I don't mean anything else, just friends," Cassandra spluttered realising what she had just said. "Friends love friends too. That's love too."

She couldn't speak, she couldn't move. All she could do was listen.

"You love your family, I'm sure. Your brothers, your father, even your deceased mother, may the Maker preserve her soul, that's love too," Cassandra went on, finding strength in her words now. "It's impossible for you to have never loved before because your heart is so big. So big that you're willing to risk life and limb for Thedas."

Tears prickled at the edges of Trev's eyes as she tightened her jaw to hold the lump in her throat back. Cassandra wasn't going to be detered now that she found her stride. "Just because you have not, cannot, loved romantically, what does it matter? Love comes in many shapes and forms, just because you don't have one kind doesn't mean you're broken. Lust and sexual attraction might not be something for you, but that's ok too. Your life is still complete, you are still complete. Trev, you can never be broken, you were never broken."

Just like that the knot in Trev's chest was loosened and the tears came in earnest. Cassandra brushed them away before tugging her into a hug. Sobs shook her body as she cried in relief. Someone understood, Cassandra understood.

* * *

The ride back towards Skyhold was much better after that. Trev pulled Dorian to one side and apologised. Dorian, for his part, waved it away, saying, "It's not anything you should be sorry for. It's hard. I should know. Trevelyan, just remember, you're not alone in this."

She smiled, a weight lifting from her shoulders. "Thank you."

He jerked his chin at Varric. "Now tell that to him. I know he feels really guilty about this whole thing."

She nodded and nudged her horse alongside Varric's. "Hey," she greeted.

Varric sighed. "What is it, Pup?" He shook his head. "No, no, that doesn't work."

Trev huffed, a soft little laugh. "Still trying huh?"

"Yes, I'm not giving up." He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "It's weird I have such trouble with your nickname and not anyone else's. I swear I'll find one that fits."

"If that makes you happy, Varric," she sighed. "I'm just here apologise for my behaviour."

"So the talk the Seeker gave you worked?"

Trev blinked, heart clenching at the thought the words Cassandra had said were scripted, but Cassandra would never had went along with it. She was honest to a fault, her mood were as clear as the furrow on her brow. Cassandra wouldn't have spoken words she didn't believe. She just wouldn't.

"Trevelyan, please, you've got to relax. I'm just remarking about what I've seen. I did not instruct the Seeker to do anything," Varric quickly reassured her. "She wouldn't have listened even if I had any advice to give."

The shuddering breath she let go betrayed the true depth of her fear. She laughed shakily. "Yeah, the talk helped. It really did."

Varric chuckled, "I'm glad." Turning away, he cast his eyes upon Cassandra's strong and rigid back who was riding just ahead of them. "The Seeker is quite a woman huh?"

Trev didn't answer, she just smiled. Everything would be ok, Trev knew, with Cassandra in her life. It was a fact as immovable as the Sun rose in the east and set in the west.

Varric laughed louder. "So about that story you're writing," he ventured tentatively, his eyes darting to look at Trev's face to gauge her reaction.

She scratched the back of her neck. The parchment was still secured rolled up in her saddle bags. She hadn't had time to work on it, but more truthfully, her mind wasn't ready to. "I still need help with it."

"Tell you what, I'll give you a few ideas, you see if they work for the story you want to tell. And I have a couple of books you can use as reference for the more… let's say sexy portions of the story."

Trev nodded eagerly. She dearly wanted the story to be written and done. More importantly, she wanted to present it to Cassandra to show how much she appreciated her help.

"What are you two plotting back there?" Cassandra called out, she turned in her saddle, slowing her mount down to keep pace with them.

Varric grinned. "Why Seeker, what makes you say so?"

"Dwarf, you're always up to something," she replied, eyes narrowing. Those piercing orbs darted between Varric and Trev. It was when they rested upon Trev, the tightness across Cassandra's shoulders eased and a small smile tugged at her lips.

Varric, sandwiched between the two warriors, just laughed. "Oh boy, I wonder how long will it take," he muttered under his breath.

* * *

"I think it's good," Varric said. "I'm glad you took my suggestion about the ending."

"Are you sure it's ok to end it this way?" Trev asked. "Isn't it a little…"

They had cramped themselves into Dorian's little nook in the library. Dorian looked most annoyed by the arrangement. He sighed frequently, often dramatically, as he sniffed at the mess they had made of his space.

"Yes, I guarantee the Seeker will love it," Varric said.

"Really?" Trev asked. She had rushed the draft down to Varric the moment she was done.

True to Varric's word, he had given her books to read. The books were, of course, written by him, but they were exactly the kind she needed. He took a harsh pen down her draft and edited the story, scratching out lines that went nowhere, suggesting details she could add. She pored over the notes and painstakingly rewritten everything on fresh pieces of parchment.

"Yes," he said. "It's ready."

Trev straightened, carefully rolling the parchment up. It was ready. Oh shit, it's actually done. Now she had to give this to Cassandra and have her read it. She hadn't realised how nerve wrecking it would feel. Now that it was upon her, she didn't think she could go through with it.

"No," Dorian said sternly. His eyes pinned her to the spot as she swung her eyes to meet his. "You're not backing out. Not after all this effort and invasion of my space. You're giving it to her."

"How?" Trev begin but was quickly interrupted.

"At this point, I don't care anymore. Just do it now before you lose your nerve, Trevelyan."

"But—"

"No buts," he near growled, rising to his feet. He planted his hands on her shoulders and manoeuvred her towards the steps. "Now!"

"It's late," Trev stammered.

"I'm sure the Seeker isn't asleep yet," Dorian countered.

With one foot planted on the downward step, she twisted and stared at them. Dorian looked at her sternly and pointed down the steps while Varric grinned. "Go get her, Ace."

He blinked. "That works, that works surprisingly well."

"Ace," she said, feeling the way the word formed in her mouth. "Yeah I think I like that."

"Now go," Dorian nudged her.

* * *

But Trev was a coward, she wanted to do it right, at least that was what she told herself. Dorian spent the entire next day and the day after that giving her pointed looks whenever they met while she got caught up on her duties. Trev didn't want to just drop the story in on Cassandra while she was resting. That wouldn't be fair. At the same time, she didn't want to be there when Cassandra read it. The mere thought of that experience was mortifying enough.

Still, Trev needed to get it done. Taking her midday meal earlier than usual, she escaped Skyhold for a bit in search for some flowers to go with the story, just in case it failed to meet Cassandra's expectations. However, the moment she returned, Josephine dragged her back to her office for more discussions. The flowers and the parchment went into her pockets. By the time she stumbled free from Josephine's clutches, she was tired and hungry.

As Trev stumbled into Herald's Rest, a voice rose over the din. "There you are, Ace," Varric called out. "Come join us."

Retrieving a bowl of stew, Trev took the seat right next to Cassandra. She heard and felt a rather distinct crunch from her pockets. Standing abruptly, she shoved her hand into her pocket only to feel the crushed parchment and flowers inside.

"Is everything all right?" Cassandra asked.

Trev forced a smile. "Yes, yes. Just had an itch."

"In your pocket?" The scepticism couldn't be any stronger.

"Something like that." She sat, wincing internally as she felt the paper flattened again.

The conversation around the table ebbed and flowed as she ate. The unease in her chest wasn't erased with just a simple conversation with Cassandra, but it was the beginnings of acceptance, of adjusting her worldview from one she was taught to one that was true. It'd take time to get there, but she had it, time to process and turn things over in her mind. Gazing out across the table, she realised she loved each and every one of them here. They were all important people in her life.

Cassandra was right. She did love and was loved. A smile, a small one, tugged at her lips as she leaned back against the chair, sighing contentedly. Men might love men or women or both, women likewise could do the same. Some weren't born in a gender that fit them and some didn't even think themselves being entirely a man or a woman or even either. She might not know love in the romantic sense, or feel attraction like others did but she wasn't broken. It was a conviction that was slowly taking root in her heart.

"Friends do hold hands!" Sera shouted.

"Really?" Blackwall looked sceptically at her.

"Yes." Cullen nodded

"They do," Cassandra agreed, glancing at Trev, smiling.

Dorian laughed. "I'll hold your hand now Commander if it helps convince our warden friend here of the truth."

A flush rushed up to the tips of Cullen's ears. Trev wondered if his brain had quite literally melted at the prospect. She laughed.

"Friends can even kiss friends," Leliana pointed out, her eyes glinting with a mischievous light, darting towards Cassandra. Cassandra's smile faded as her eyes narrowed, but she didn't speak, opting to drink from her tankard instead.

"Really? That can't be right," Sera chuckled. "I'll like to see that, yeah?"

"Trevelyan can kiss a friend," Varric suggested.

"Yeah, Cullen," Bull suggested. "He is a friend, I'm sure."

Everything was happening too quick, too fast. One moment Trev was relaxing, the next she was hauled to her feet and pushed towards Cullen. "Hey, hey let's not do this," she said. "Look the Commander is entirely red!"

"I'll do it," Dorian offered.

"Maker have mercy," Cullen muttered under his breath, eyes squeezed shut.

"Give Cullen a break," Cassandra stood, "We have a campaign to the Emprise Du Lion to consider."

"You can do it then," Leliana pointed out, her smile sharp as the daggers she kept on her person. "Kiss Trevelyan."

"I can't," Cassandra replied, her voice strangled as she tried to ease back into her seat.

"But you have," Leliana countered.

Trev blinked. "She has?"

"Yes."

Cassandra groaned, pressing her hand to her face.

"But I don't remember," Trev said, her voice trailing off as she realised the rest of them were sitting in rapt silence. She could feel eyes on her back as she faced Cassandra. The sheer amount of attention she was getting made her skin tingle. "Shouldn't I remember that?"

"That wasn't a kiss," Cassandra insisted, her eyes flashing at Leliana. "It was necessary. It doesn't count." (See Never Walk Alone)

Leliana chuckled. It was a sound that sent chills down Trev's spine. It was all beyond her now. "Did you put your lips on hers?" she asked.

Cassandra growled, a wordless sound of frustration.

"Did you?"

"Yes." The admission came as a strangled sigh.

The table erupted into questions. With "when was this?" being the loudest. Trev had the same question lodged in her throat, but she couldn't voice it. She touched her lips and tried to remember. Being kissed, or kissing someone was a momentous event in her books. Why couldn't she remember?

"When?" Trev asked.

Cassandra turned to meet her eyes. The anger at the situation lingered in there, but it relaxed a notch, but before she could answer, Sera shouted, "Then you should have no problems kissing Trevelyan now? She is your friend, isn't she?"

"Friends kiss friends!" Sera cheered and the rest took it up.

Cassandra frowned, the furrow between her brows so deep it looked like it was set in stone. Trev shook her head, indignanation rising up in her chest. "Guys! Stop it. This… this isn't fun," she said.

Sera laughed and started making kissing noises. Trev grimaced, she was at her wits' end trying to find a way to get them to stop. It was clear neither Cassandra nor Cullen appreciated this teasing. She threw her hands up, if this started because of her, she'd take herself out of the situation. It was the only course of action she had.

Trev walked out without a backwards glance. Sera's disappointed jeers chasing her every step of the way. The volume of the cacophony was cut in half as the door closed. She sighed and wondered about the kiss she had but couldn't remember. How did that felt like? She could ask Cassandra, but remembering Cassandra's expression made her reconsider that thought.

Trev shoved her hands into her pockets to find the crashed parchment and flowers. "Fuck," her breath misted in the cold air. She had completely forgotten about them. Looking at the crumpled pieces in her hand was disheartening. She should re-write the entire thing again and find better flowers tomorrow.

"Are you all right?" a familiar voice called out to her.

It was Cassandra. The chill had coloured her cheeks a rosy red. Trev hadn't made it very far from Herald's Rest. In fact, she was standing just outside of Cassandra's quarters, if a bed above the forge could be considered adequate sleeping quarters for the former Right Hand of the Divine.

Trev shrugged. "Yeah, I just didn't want them to force you to do something you don't want to."

Cassandra sighed and jerked her chin towards the forge. "Let's get out of the cold."

Trev followed. The tip of her ears, especially the amputated one, tingled uncomfortably as they stepped inside.

"What do you have there?" Cassandra asked.

_Oh shit. Oh shit._

She cleared her throat. Suddenly, speech was impossible.

Cassandra cocked her head, her brow rose in an unspoken question. Trev sighed and just pushed the flowers and parchment towards her, but her fingers were unwilling to relinquish her prize. "For you."

Her brow rose higher. "May I?"

Trev nodded and allowing Cassandra to pry her fingers loose. When it was out of her hands, she found its unbearable to have nothing in them, shoving them into her pockets were her only recourse. "It's a gift."

"Why?" Cassandra asked.

"For Haven, for everything."

Cassandra eyed the crushed flowers.

"I errr… I forgot I had them with me just now. I've accidentally crushed them," she reaching out and tried to take them from Cassandra, to hide the ugly gift she dared to show her. "Let me get you new ones tomorrow, these are too broken."

Cassandra held her hands off and shook her head. "They are fine. They will dry nicely here."

"But they are broken."

"They are just mildly pulverised," she insisted, turning her attention to the parchment.

Blood rushed up Trev's face, she could feel the heat radiating from her skin. "This is," she cleared her throat, "a story I've written for you. It's not very good, it's probably isn't very coherent. Sorry it took so long, but I hope you like it."

Cassandra's eyes were already darting across the page. She couldn't possibly have enough light in the room to read it. It was just too dark, it had to be.

"I'm going to leave you to it, I'm sorry that your gift is all crushed," Trev said hastily, trying to make her escape. This wasn't how she planned for things to go. She wanted to leave them in Cassandra's room, uncrushed, and allowing her to discover and read it in her own time. This was the worst possible way to do it.

Trev made it as far as putting her hand on the door knob, ready to push through when Cassandra called out. "Trev, wait."

She hesitated, eager to flee but courtesy bid her to wait. Cassandra reached out and caught her hand. "About earlier, I wasn't angry because of you."

"I know," Trev nodded. "I didn't think you were."

"I was just annoyed at the others. They were forcing things on you. It's not right," she went on. "But… I agree with them, friends do kiss friends."

Trev's eyes widened. "Really? I thought… it may be a bridge too far."

Cassandra stepped closer. "If you want, I can kiss you now," she said, the offer sincere and without guile.

If it came from anyone else, Trev would be immediately suspicious, she would think they had some kind of trick up their sleeve but not Cassandra. There wasn't a single dishonest bone in her entire body.

Trev swallowed, nerves turning her mouth entirely dry. "Friends kiss friends, right?"

"They do," Cassandra affirmed.

"Ok," she whispered, a single word lingered in the still air.

Cassandra leaned in close, closer, and closer still. Trev could smell the faint scent of ale on her breath and the oil she used to polish her armour. Soft lips pressed against her cheek for a brief moment. Goosebumps across Trev's arms. And the moment was gone. Cassandra's arms gripped her shoulders, as if she needed something to steady herself.

Trev smiled. "Thank you."

Cassandra snorted, this one a sound of affection. "Good night, Trev. And thank you."

"Good night."

* * *

"How did it go, Ace?" Varric asked the next day.

Trev was on her way to the war room. "I don't know," she admitted.

"But you did give it to her?"

She couldn't have the heat that crept up her face, remembering the soft peck against her cheek. It was nice.

"Ok, don't answer that. That blush tells me everything," Varric laughed.

"Trev!"

Someone shouted her name. It rang out across the grand hall. She spun to find Cassandra clutching the story in one hand. Blood ran from her face.

"Oh no, I can't tell if that a good sign or not," Varric muttered, he started inching away from her.

"You can't leave me alone, Varric," Trev hissed.

Cassandra took long strides, covering the space between the door and Varric's usual spot in short order. Trev's heart slammed harder the closer she got. Did she hated the story that much?

"Did you write this yourself?" Cassandra asked, shaking the parchment at Trev.

Trev threw quick glances at Varric who held his hands up. "I did nothing but edit it for you. The story is all yours."

She swallowed and nodded mutedly. "I'm sorry. The story must be a mess. I… I can get you another gift. It was a bad idea, what was I thinking?" she spluttered rapidly.

"No," Cassandra said, grabbing Trev was her shoulders, her grip so tight it hurt a little. "No, Trev. I love it."

That's when blood ran in the opposite direction, rushing to her face. It suddenly too warm. "Really?"

"But," Cassandra straightened, her grip tighter still.

"But?"

Varric watched on with interest, his eyes taking in every detail of this exchange.

"You can't do this to me."

"Wha—"

"This is better than anything Varric has written—" Varric frowned, holding his hands up ready to speak but Cassandra forged on, "but he doesn't leave me hanging wondering at the fate of the suspect. What happened to her? Did the guardswoman find her? What happened, Trev?"

Cassandra's eyes were wide, brimming with a barely suppressed need to know.

"Hang on there, you're saying you prefer Ace's story over mine?" Varric interjected.

Cassandra ignored him while she bored her eyes into Trev's. "I love this story. Thank you for writing it for me. But you can't do this to me, you can't end the story there."

Trev chuckled, it started soft and filled with relief until it exploded in her chest into full belly aching laughter. Tears sprang from her eyes as she tried to get herself under control. "I thought you hated it."

"I could never," Cassandra rushed to say. "It's something I'll always treasure. This is a story written just for me."

Varric, by this point, had all but given up on getting a say in edgewise. He settled back to his chair and started writing. They looked suspiciously like notes.

Trev smiled, a lightness filled her entire being, even the Anchor flared to match it. "I can tell you what I have planned for later."

"No," Cassandra shook her head vehemently. "Don't you dare tell me. But… may I request you continue the story?" Her voice was tentatively and small.

Trev hesitated. "If Varric would help me, I don't think I was able to get the story written without his help," she said, turning to look at him.

"So now you remember me, huh?" Varric said. "Of course, anything for Ace and the Seeker. For friends."

"For friends," Trev agreed and smiled.

She never felt more comfortable in her own skin than that moment. The fear of missing out was still there, the wonder if she would ever find someone who loved her for who she was lingered, but they were muted because of the people she had around her. She was loved and have loved, she had friends.

"I will," Trev promised. The answering smile from Cassandra made the agonising all worth while.


End file.
